


Erogenous

by swordliliesandebony



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 17:09:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13815684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swordliliesandebony/pseuds/swordliliesandebony
Summary: A little stress-relief after another long, dark day. [Fill for Tumblr request: Gladnis NSFW Nipple Play]





	Erogenous

**Author's Note:**

> Just a bit of PWP from a fic request on Tumblr! I'm [still taking requests](https://n0tempty.tumblr.com/post/171267976462/taking-fic-requests) if you'd like to shoot one my way.

Gladio doesn't outright announce his presence, but he doesn't really need to. He isn't quiet when he hoists himself into the bed, balancing on his knees so that he can propel himself over to Ignis's side. He wins an inclination of Ignis's head in his direction, an expanse of exposed throat that serves as an invitation if he's ever seen one. His lips are already pressing hot and eager against that delicate flesh before he thinks to get his fingers dipped beneath Ignis's collar. He's working from behind, easing an already-open shirt from his shoulders, exposing more skin to work with, to splay his hands across.

"Not wasting any time tonight, are we?" Ignis speaks through something close to a chuckle and he lets his words drift into a sigh, something between pleasure and relief and all-too-easily setting Gladio's body a few degrees too warm. 

"Should I slow down?" he speaks into the heated spot between throat and shoulder where he's now drawn to laying his affection. Ignis chuckles at that suggestion too and he grunts out a soft sound that Gladio can translate without a second thought into something along the lines of, 'absolutely not'. His lips curl while his fingers travel the expanse of Ignis's stomach. His thumb eases up that defined line of abdomen, creasing well-carved muscle to either side. It's all too inviting, spanning hands across Ignis this way. He's slender, nearly enough so that Gladio can get the heels of his palms riding his waist with fingers meeting. He can take in the heat of skin and the sharp intake of breath and it has him easing closer still, until he has Ignis cradled back against him. 

"I happen to appreciate your enthusiasm," Ignis's proper counter to the question is belated, but it's all the same. He would have spoken up immediately if he wanted Gladio to stop—a fact well established over many such experiences, "I suppose you don't care to tell me about your day."

"Not particularly," Gladio agrees, a grunt into that same skin while his hands work their way upward. He is, as it happens, far more interested in the mostly-undressed man in his embrace than he is in recounting any of the day's battles. They're all the same now anyway, an endless stretch of dismal darkness that is better forgotten when forgetting is an option, "you wanna talk about yours?" 

"No," Ignis's reply is curt enough that Gladio is nearly tempted to push the subject. Nearly. There is plenty to distract him from the subject, though. There's the way that Ignis arches his back, so his shoulders weigh more heavily against him and his chest presses such an undeniable invitation to his palms. There's the heat  _ radiating  _ there, surging against his fingers alongside Ignis's steady and rapidfire thumping pulse. And there's the way Ignis  _ gasps _ , audible and outright and perhaps even startled when Gladio brushes a finger over one nipple. He's soft and almost incidental in the contact, but he can't ignore the way Ignis reacts and he won't pretend it's anything short of intriguing. 

"You like that," Gladio doesn't pose it as a question. He doesn't need to. He doesn't need the murmured confirmation either, though he enjoys the rumble of it through Ignis's chest, a sort of eager purring. He smiles at it he keeps one hand in place there, fingers working a feathery circle, coaxing skin into stiffness while his other goes to slide Ignis's glasses off, place them gingerly at the bedside table. There is another sound at that gesture, perhaps not quite as pleased, but it turns when Gladio's lips start a new path, down Ignis's temple and over his cheekbone, his body arching and craning until their lips can meet. The angle is bad, sloppy and half-cocked, but the heat is apparent and Ignis sighs into the edges of the kiss when they part, when Gladio's thumb makes more firm a swipe against him.

"Clearly," Ignis grunts the word and he arches further, presses skin more firmly against Gladio's fingers. Gladio can't get enough of the response, the absolute impatience that he's managing to draw from Ignis. It's uncharacteristic and it's running shivers down Gladio's spine, running arousal in heavy jolts directly to his cock. He rocks his hips enough to display that, focusing his attention now on Ignis's neglected nipple, running those same teasing circles. This time, Ignis shudders outright and it's enough that Gladio presses his mouth to Ignis's shoulder, hides a groan behind the wet of tongue and a scrape of teeth. 

There is a thought that Gladio could stay like this, working him just this way until he's left crying out for more satisfying touches, for a little bit of relief to all that teasing. It's an appealing thought too, if one that Gladio knows he'll never manage to follow through on. Instead, his hands slip and he makes a quick turn, lifts Ignis from his lap to lay him instead on the bed. If he looked good from that previous angle, flashes of skin and muscle and perfectly formed angles, he's absolutely  _ irresistible  _ now, laid out properly before him.

Gladio's fingers twitch to move back to him, to pad over the rapid heaving of his chest, to pay more mind to any number of sensitive bundles of nerve and need. He gives himself a moment though, to ease Ignis's thighs apart and plant himself between. And he doesn't hesitate in running a hand along the front of his briefs, a palm working heavily at the growing erection contained within. That has Ignis's back arching again, has him cursing beneath his breath in a way that draws Gladio up over him. He keeps one hand there, kneading him through elastic and cotton while the other braces beside Ignis's head. His face hovers just inches from Ignis's. He's close enough that their breath mingles, hot and quick and as dripping with want as anything could be.

"Gladio," Ignis's voice is sharp and as impatient as that eager arching—his hips now working up into more contact. Gladio smirks at the tone there before his lips are on Ignis's again, properly now, drowning out any protests. There aren't any  _ real  _ ones to be had. He's the one groaning now, at the way Ignis's teeth tug at his bottom lip, at the way he's grown quickly to a full erection in his palm, the way he's rocking out a rhythm without any concern for the desperation therein.

"Something wrong?" Gladio's voice is teasing, words spoken between his lips working back down Ignis's throat. He glides his tongue over the pronounced line of his clavicle, closes his lips in a harsh little bit of suction at the edge. And then he's working lower once more, back toward the heated sensitivity of Ignis's nipple, standing ready for the swipe of his tongue.

"Not at all, I—" his words cut into another gasp, something that errs closer to a whimper, something that is driving Gladio absolutely mad, driving his lips to close over Ignis's nipple in an eager attempt at more like reactions. It quiets him—his words, at least—for a few long moments. Ignis doesn't seem to know where he is more desperate for contact over those endless seconds, alternating between pressing his chest up against Gladio's face and rocking his hips to his hand. He manages his words stilted and gasping, "I suppose you look  _ perfectly  _ smug."

"Absolutely smug. And terribly handsome," Gladio's lips only part from Ignis's skin to tease, to draw a little disgruntled sound from him instead. He laughs, something low and throaty and that pulls Ignis temporarily into a similar response. 

"And entirely wasted on someone who can't appreciate it," if Ignis wasn't saying them while still working through that breathy sort of laughter, the words might give Gladio pause. However many years have passed, he still sees this particular line of teasing as a terribly thin one. Ignis, perhaps ironically, does not. Gladio doesn't waste time on such thoughts though, not when Ignis is so impatient, when his body is so eager and present beneath him.

"Guess I'll just hafta try something you  _ can  _ appreciate," he grunts back, and he lifts himself for a moment. It's enough to make Ignis whine—another drop from usual character—for lack of contact. The displeasure only lasts a moment though, only while Gladio takes advantage of that absolutely magnetic display before him. Then he's diving in again, his lips working down Ignis's belly, his fingers tugging swift to release Ignis from his underwear, to expose him almost at once to the heat of breath as his face eases lower still.

He shifts again, so one hand can go back to that saliva-slicked nipple. His fingers glide easily there now and the touch has Ignis's cock twitching at attention before him, wet and appealing and strained up against his belly. He thinks he hears an intake of breath as if words will follow, but when Gladio drags his tongue up the shaft, tracing heavy veins, it's as effective a silencer as any.

Gladio absolutely relishes in Ignis's response. There's another one of those little gasps, something soft and natural and as endearing as it is arousing, when he wraps his lips around his swollen head. His tongue swipes heavy and flat against that first bitter taste while his thumb and forefinger close around Ignis's nipple. The effect, it would appear, is explosive. It has Ignis twitching around his lips, squirming in the bed with more a whimper than a moan. 

It has Gladio encouraged, and it has him shifting into a mindset that views the interaction as much as a challenge than anything else. He wants more of those sweet sounds, more of the uncontrolled movements. His lips close tight with suction, and his thumbnail scrapes upward. His reward is Ignis's hand gripping into his hair, tangling and tugging and urging him on. 

Not that he needs that encouragement, particularly. Gladio presses forward, presses down, eases more of Ignis into him until he's taking him near to base. He works slow at first, adjusting himself to that initial sensation, that press against his throat that is by no means unfamiliar, but still an intrusion to adjust to. Ignis's fingers move to stroking more than tugging, encouraging as anything, and that eases him into a more fervent action.

He might draw a hand away, tend to his own aching and still-clothed erection, if not for the way that Ignis is still pressing his chest up to his hand, still gasping with each flick or pinch or rough glide of his fingers. Gladio finds that he can be a man of  _ infinite  _ patience, when he's so heartily rewarded. 

And, besides, he knows almost from the go that this won't last long. Ignis's body gives every sign of that from the start, even without the gasped out warnings, even without the fingers clenching at the back of his skull again, forcing him down further, gagging him in that urgency. He grunts through it, an extra jolt of sensation with his throat tight and vibrating around Ignis's cock. Enough to draw him over, with the accompaniment of fingers pinching rough around his nipple.

Gladio doesn't draw back at once. He swallows down that release, heated and bitter as it is, just the best he can, and even as he's lifting away and catching panting for much-needed air, he's letting hot breath rush over Ignis's spent and hypersensitive cock in the process. He's making him squirm and gasp and whimper and, after some moments, draw Gladio back up. He's turning them, so that Gladio is flat on his back and Ignis can reach at his waist. There's a little grunt of frustration, something that makes Gladio chuckle as he lifts his hips.

"You're going to make me undress you?" 

"Didn't wanna make you wait," that smug look is definitely back on his face, unseen though it may be. Gladio knows better than to actually reach in and help Ignis with the process. He doesn't  _ need  _ the assistance anyway. One thumb opens a button with the swift assurance of well-earned muscle memory. Likewise, it only takes another short bit of rearranging for Ignis to work Gladio out of pants and boxers in one fell swoop.

"You're  _ impossible, _ " Ignis murmurs. His voice has that hazy quality, even as it gets lost in a line of kisses around Gladio's shoulder, that betrays the euphoria still fogging his mind. It's enough to ease Gladio's eyes shut when his hand wraps around and gives those first slow, heavy strokes. He's hard, perhaps overly slick from the heavy arousal present just at working Ignis over, and he knows that this whole encounter is sure to be fleeting.

It only serves to turn Gladio's focus sharper. He doesn't miss the heat of Ignis's mouth working to his throat, or the subtle twist of his wrist working over his cock. He doesn't fail to gasp, to arch at his thumb pressing into the leaking slit, nor to grunt out his pleasure when Ignis's hand drops lower for a moment, fingers playing over his balls. 

And it makes him that much more appreciative when Ignis murmurs some encouragements to his warning of a quick finish, when he finds his lips covered and his attempt at Ignis's name muted by a mouth over his own when he spills over Ignis's hand and across his own belly. When his hips are lifted and trembling against the effort and the pleasure, when he's swimming through that pleased, heavy haze that settles in his chest just as warm and easy as Ignis does, nuzzling a cheek in there. 

It has him laughing again and murmuring an agreement when Ignis points out that, really, this only means they'll have time to go again before bed. 


End file.
